Cutting Edge
by reBeCCa a.k.a. dacrayZblaze1
Summary: A/U. "Understand? Love? Ha. Kamiya Kaoru, age 31 does not believe in love. I believe in clothes, fabric and shoes." Cynical 31 year old Kaoru runs her own fashion house, and decides it's time for fresh young blood. She doesn't count on finding love too.


Author's note: because Kenshin and Kaoru are my favorite pair in life, this story is calling out to me. It's going to be k/k and it's a/u. the plot bunnies are killing me at 4 in the morning. I should be in bed. Go read my story, Chikatetsu Ni. The corny as hell title of this fic is decided.

Disclaimer: I don't own rk

And without further ado!

Cutting Edge

Chapter 1: Welcome to Kamiya's House of Design

I can't believe this crap. This cannot be happening today, of all days. My model is in the hospital with a broken foot. My seamstresses have cut and sewn the dress designs I gave them ALL WRONG. It's in the wrong fabric too. Who the hell would wear a summer dress made out of merino wool? I don't know who ordered this damn fabric, but they're fired. The set is messed up anyway. I wanted to get this small park closed with a water fall in it. It was a very lovely looking waterfall too, but instead my secretary booked the end with the baseball fields. She's fired. My photographer's lens broke and the computer systems all the photographers use crashed today.

As if the day weren't already going to hell in a hand basket… I hear the phone ringing in my office.

"Nori-san! Nori-san! Get the phone," I say.

The phone is still ringing.

"Nori-san! Where the hell are you? Get the phone!"

Welcome to Kamiya's house of Design. We're one of the most up and coming fashion houses in Tokyo. We have the style to revolutionize what the modern woman and man of today will wear!

"Nori-san! Get your country bumpkin behind over here NOW! If you don't answer that phone, it will be your damn job on the line!"

My secretary Nori, tucks her badly bleached hair behind her heavily pierced ear. She is holding a steaming cup of coffee and is strolling lazily towards me. I look her up and down and the phone keeps ringing. She is wearing ripped and torn jeans and busted up Converse. I can see her white socks from the holes in her sneakers. She has a blue tee shirt that says "Psychedelic violence" and "Crime of visual shock." Her outfit is a crime to fashion is what.

The phone goes to my answering machine. I hear a voice saying "Hello Kamiya-san. We have been trying to reach you for a while now. This call is regarding your proposed spread in our magazine…"

**I cry out in shock. It's the client I've been waiting to call me back! I push Nori aside and coffee spills out of her cup onto my carpet. I bite back a scream; I'll have to pay for someone to clean that out later. Running in 4 inch stilettos is not a fate I wish upon people. I practically throw open the door to grab the receiver in time. My heel snaps and I fall onto the floor, receiver in hand. The day could not get worse, I remind myself. My ****43,250 yen (500 USD) Jimmy Choo stilettos did NOT just snap on me… there is no way in hell… NO way in hell.** **The day cannot get worse. No it cannot.** "**Hello," I say into the phone. "This is Kamiya speaking."** "**Ah! Kamiya-san," says the Male Voice. "I'm glad I could get you on the phone. I've been trying all day."** "**I'm sorry," I say through gritted teeth. "We've been having some issues with the secretarial staff." I glare at my doorway. Nori is there calmly sipping coffee. I want to throw my broken stilettos in her face.**

"Well, as I was saying in my message," the Male Voice started. "It's about your proposed spread in our magazine. I know you said you wanted about 15 pages… but…"

"But?"

"I can only give you one…" the Male Voice says slowly. "Just one page is what we have available at the moment, Kamiya-san."

"That's not a spread!" I say. "That's a freaking advert! And how much would you be charging me?"

"Ah. Uhm, times are tight, Kamiya-san." The Male Voice says. "We were hoping you'd be willing to pay the price you originally offered for your 15 page spread."

"What!" My voice is shrilly but I don't care. "Are you insane? For that price I could put up billboards across all of Honshuu! Thanks but no thanks!"

I throw the phone down in disgust.

"Kamiya-sensei," Nori says in her slow voice. She looks like a hoodlum in that ridiculous outfit. "I'm sorry that I didn't get the phone. I was getting coffee."

She raises the cardboard cup and I resist the urge to take the cup and pour the scalding liquid in her face. I just glare at her as I raise myself up. I gather my shoe in my hand and look at the remains of my very beautiful heel sadly. I limp across my office floor, clutching the broken shoe in my hand. I haven't taken off the other shoe.

"Look at this," I hiss. "Look at this! Do you see what your foolishness did! Do you know how much these heels cost! I'll be taking it out of your paycheck for next month. "

"Kamiya-sensei, how much would that be?"

"43,250 yen," I say viciously. "Now, go call a carpet cleaning service. And I'll be taking the price of that out of your paycheck too!"

Nori runs off looking scared.

Good. No one told her to walk at the pace of a turtle. It isn't her fault that my day is falling apart. It just feels nice to take it out on someone. It is her fault that my beautiful heels broke. I'm definitely going to take that out of her paycheck. They were black sling backs with a slightly rounded point and a small platform. The heel was a very thin stacked heel. And they were four inches tall. When you're 5 foot one inch, and you run a fashion house, you need height from wherever it comes. In my case, it's four and sometimes five inch heels. I only wear five inch heels when I know I won't be moving for several hours. Those shoes were beautiful, and someone has to pay for the fact that I can't wear them anymore.

What is up with my secretary? You would think telling your secretary that they can dress however they want would mean business casual, not dressing like a dirty visual kei fanatic. The least Nori could do is dress with more finesse than dirty sneakers and torn jeans that look like they need to be washed. Clearly Nori is not going around to any venues… Visual kei lovers dress with much more pizzaz than she is dressing…

I take off my other heel and walk back to my desk. I reach under the large mahogany desk that is littered with papers for my emergency pair of shoes. Plain suede pumps are suddenly in my hands. These shoes are so boring. They are two inches, and have the dullest black heel ever. I hate these shoes.

I sit at my desk and wiggle my feet in the shoes. I haven't worn them in almost a year, so they still have the new shoe feeling to them. I lean my head against my leather chair and look up at my light fixtures. One of the lights in the six light lamp hanging from the wall is blinking rapidly.

"Note to self," I say out loud. "Put in a work order for a new light bulb. Other note to self, send stylist Nori's way. Her hair is looking rather stupid."

The intercom cuts across my monologue. I hear Nori's whiny voice. "Kamiya-sensei. Natsume-san is here to see you, but he doesn't have an appointment. Should I let him in? He seems frantic."

"Let him in."

Natsume is the man of the hour. He is like the rock on which this company is built. Let me tell you, I can't do anything without Natsume. He's my right hand man and my art director. I dream up designs and what fashion shoots and runways should look like. Natsume is the genius that brings that vision to life. Natsume bursts through the door. I first notice his tight jeans and his pink button down shirt that isn't tucked in. His pants are tucked into his boots, and he's wearing a black bowler hat. On anyone else, this outfit would look ridiculous, but I appreciate how Natsume's body is shown off in the right places by the clothes. I'm also jealous of how the pants fit his behind as he turns around and closes the door. Natsume's a very good looking man. It's too bad he's gay an in a committed relationship. Not that I'm looking.

Natsume looks at me and I see that his eyes are puffy and rimmed with red.

"Natsume! What's wrong!"

"Kaoru-chan! I can't do this anymore," he says. "I can't be made to pick between the two of you! I love you Kaoru-chan! But if I don't leave you, he'll leave me!"

"This can't be," I say. "You're not going anywhere. Kamiya's House of Design needs you, Natsume."

"Kaoru-chan!" his voice is several octaves higher than normal. "You're making this harder than it needs to be! I can't work for you anymore. We need to break up. This job takes up too much of my time, Kaoru-chan! And besides, lately this company is in the pits. You're lucky we managed to sell 1 dress off the rack this week. I can't be here anymore. My love with Shion is more important. I hope you understand Kaoru."

"You're leaving me for another MAN, Natsume?" My voice is squeaking with disbelief. "Kamiya's House of Design has fed you for the past ten years! What the hell is wrong with you!"

"It's hard for me too, Kaoru-chan," he wails. Tears stream down his cheeks. "I didn't want to come to this decision, but this is a love that will last forever. Please understand…"

"Get out." My voice is hard. "Get out of here."

Understand? Love?

Ha. Kamiya Kaoru, age 31 does not believe in love. I believe in clothes, fabric and shoes.

"Kamiya's House of design was a good place for me, Kaoru-chan," Natsume says sadly. "It was a good place. We were filled with love for clothes and people and we had dreams. What happened to our dreams and our love for fashion, Kaoru-chan?"

I don't answer. I don't want to believe that the person who has been with me from day one when I was just an idiot teen that dropped out of high school cutting up clothing for dolls is leaving me.

"I'm leaving," he said.

"I don't need you here."

"You know what, Kaoru-chan?" he says. "You know what happened to you? You got warped."

"I got real. The business world is brutal, and the fashion world especially. It's an ugly place. You can't be full of ideals."

"Ha," Natsume's voice had lost all traces of the crying by this point. "You're just a frigid and middle aged lady. You need to get laid Kaoru."

With that, Natsume walks out of the door. He does not look back and slams the door so hard that my light fixtures rattle.

I pick up my phone and call my secretary. "Nori-san?"

"Yes?" She sounds bored.

"I need you to put in a work order for a new light bulb. I also need you to start drafting up ads and placing them in all the major news papers and magazines. We need a new art director."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Good, now the girl sounds more alert. I close the phone and put my hand in my arms. I want to cry. Natsume had been with me for 15 years. We both dropped out of high school at the age of 15 so that we could pursue our dream of creating our own fashion house. I caught a lucky break when my dad that I had never known died and left me a lot of money. Everything steamrolled from there. I caught the attention of the media for my innovative designs and Natsume became my art director, always bringing my visions to life, always capturing the deeper meaning of my clothes. Natsume had been there from the beginning and had sworn to be there until the bitter end.

The tears come out of my eyes. I feel like I just got divorced again.

I can't stop them as they fall from my face. They pool on my table and soon sobs are coming out of me. Loud sobs that fill up my huge, silent office. Loud sobs that attract the attention of Nori.

"Kamiya-sensei? Are you ok?"

"Yes!" I scream at the door. "I'm fine."

"You sure? 'Cause you sound like you're—"

"I'm not crying!"

I wipe the tears off of my eyes. I want to hit myself. I can't believe I let myself indulge in tears, like if I'm a 19 year old again. I haven't cried in over 10 years. Suddenly Natsume decides that he'd rather suck on his stupid boyfriend's penis than create art and fashion with me, and I'm blubbering like a freaking preteen. What the hell is wrong with you Kaoru? You just need to get a new art director.

I need a new art director, new photographer and maybe even a new model or two. I need to redesign the whole Kamiya House of Design. This is what this encounter with Natsume has suddenly taught me. Oh Kaoru, you're a freaking genius. As always.

I need some fresh blood in here after all. That's why we've been tanking lately. All the old people suck. We need new people.

"Nori-san!" I say. "Call the heads of all of the departments in today. Free up a conference room and call up a restaurant and have them send food for 10 people. We're going to be having reaaaaallly long meetings today!"

Welcome to the Kamiya House of Design. We're on the cutting edge of fashion. We make clothes for the modern woman and modern man. And today, the Kamiya House of Design has gotten a fresh start.

End Chapter 1

Author's note: well! The plot bunny said, no Rebecca, you can't go to sleep! I hope you like it. I've been watching a lot of top model today (random rerun marathon). Season two is the BEST season, I don't care what anyone says. It's positively the best season ever. I was just going to introduce kenshin into this, but hey, I want the entire RK crew.


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